Shadow Heir

“I always have,” I said, not meeting his eyes. “Even when we were mad at each other over something, we’ve always been there for each other.”

Until those words left my mouth, I hadn’t realized how powerful they were. When Kiyo and I had disagreed on things, it had almost always resulted in a breakup—hence the on-and-off-again nature of our relationship, and its eventual degradation into way off. I’d noted in Alabama how idyllic things were with Evan ... how peaceful and easy. And they were—because we never disagreed. He never contradicted me or told me what to do. Some might argue that’s a good thing, but I wasn’t sure it was a realistic thing. Of course it’s easy to like someone who always agrees with you. The trick is still standing united with someone who will tell you things you don’t want to hear. That’s how Dorian and I had always been. With very few exceptions, we’d always worked as a strong team, even when totally pissed off at each other.

If Kiyo knew the thoughts churning within me, he didn’t let on. He switched back to strategy. “The trick’s got to be in the timing. We need to sync up rescuing him and the other monarchs—but still allow enough time to see if we can figure out the key to the enchantment.”

“Not too much time, though,” I warned. “That bitch wants to execute him for her dinner entertainment.”

“No watches or clocks to go by either.” Kiyo glanced at the small window. “And you don’t have much of a sense of the sun here either. That window’s really not good for—wait. The falcon. We’ll send Alea’s falcon.”

“Spots?” I asked.

“That’s his name?” Kiyo asked incredulously.

“You have cats named after the Four Horsemen. What’s wrong with Spots?”

Kiyo shook his head, having no time for such debates. “I have to see the Hemlock gang anyway. I’ll make arrangements for Alea to send, uh, Spots here when we go in to rescue Dorian. So, when the falcon arrives ... wait, oh, ten minutes and then go for it.”

It was as good as we were going to get with our limited options. Kiyo and I hashed out as many other details as we could in our time together, including very specific directions on how to get to the palace’s lower levels from here. We talked until we finally heard my door unlock. Quickly, he transformed into the rat-fox again and crawled onto the plate, just in time for me to put the lid down and hand the covered tray to the servant doing cleanup. Kiyo had seemed pretty confident that he’d have no trouble getting out of the kitchens, so I had to trust him from there.

The servant swapped the tray for a new one, which I realized was for my midday meal already. Time went a lot faster when you had company and weren’t staring at the walls. Once I was alone again, though, I recalled Varia’s comment that every minute I delayed meant more time for Dorian in the hands of the torturers. A good part of the day had gone by, and as more of it passed, I grew restless wondering if she’d be calling me for her deadly ultimatum.

Time passed, though, with no word from her. Maybe she had changed her mind. After three hours, I was actually starting to get worried for a whole other set of reasons. The light coming in my window still told me we had plenty of day left, but if Kiyo was going to make good on his word to rescue Dorian, he needed to act soon before the “dinner show.”

A flutter of wings in the window made me jump. Spots wiggled his way in and hopped down right next to me on the cot. Adrenaline surged through me. After a day of waiting on any action to happen, things were finally about to get moving.

“Showtime, huh?” I asked Spots.

His answer was to extend his leg, which again had a tiny scroll affixed to it. I removed the scroll and found when I unrolled it that it had a lot more writing than the last message. As such, it was nearly impossible to read since microscopic writing had been required to contain it all. After much squinting, I deduced the two main points of the message. One was that all was in place, and I could commence with the plan. The other was that the objects’ protective enchantment could be weakened by an incantation spoken by someone wielding a considerable amount of power. The incantation, which wasn’t long, was also listed.

“Seems awfully easy,” I muttered. “Too easy.” Conscious of the time, I retrieved my half-ass wand and summoned Volusian. I quickly got him up to speed on the latest developments and showed him the incantation.

“It does seem easy,” he agreed.

“Could my friends have been misled? Maybe their so-called Yew dissidents lied.”

“This is the language of a Yew spell,” said Volusian. “So that much is accurate, mistress. What I wonder is if part of it is missing.”

“Well, that’s a problem for later,” I said. That seemed to be my operating procedure here. I put the scroll in my pocket and tried not to let his words bring me too down. “For now, we’ve got to get moving. The clock’s ticking and—”